Adultery Chitra - The Hot Target

[Shakespeare]

Part 1

The fluorescent lights of the conference room buzzed faintly overhead, casting a sterile glow over the long mahogany table where our team huddled for the quarterly review. I sat at the far end, my fingers drumming nervously on the stack of financial reports in front of me. As a mid-level analyst at this bustling Bangalore bank, I was used to these meetings—endless slides on loan portfolios and market trends—but today felt different. My wife, Chitra, had insisted on dropping by with homemade lunch for me, a rare gesture amid our routine life. She stood just inside the door, balancing a steel tiffin carrier, her silk saree dbangd elegantly over her curves. The deep maroon fabric clung to her fair skin, accentuating the soft swell of her hips and the generous outline of her breasts. Her long wavy hair cascaded down her back, and she smiled shyly at me, oblivious to the room's attention.

That's when I caught it—Ash Menon's gaze. My boss, the towering figure at the head of the table, paused mid-sentence about interest rates. His dark eyes, sharp and predatory, flicked toward Chitra. He was from Kerala, early forties, with a muscular build that strained against his crisp white shirt, sleeves rolled up to reveal veined forearms. Ash was the kind of man who commanded every space he entered—tall, handsome, with a manipulative charm that had climbed him up the corporate ladder. Women at the office whispered about him, how he'd bedded more than a few before moving on. His stare lingered on Chitra's form, tracing the way the saree hugged her plump ass as she shifted her weight. A slow smile tugged at his lips, and he adjusted his tie, never breaking eye contact until she noticed and blushed, averting her gaze.

Heat crept up my neck as I watched. Chitra handed me the tiffin with a quick kiss on my cheek—our marriage was solid, loyal, but after two years, the fire had dimmed to embers. We were both from conservative Bangalore families; she was the perfect wife, traditional in her ways, always in those elegant silk sarees that made her look like a goddess from old films. But lately, I'd been haunted by stories online—hotwife tales, cuckold fantasies that twisted my gut with insecurity and a forbidden thrill. What if someone like Ash, so alpha and dominant, turned his sights on her? The thought made my stomach churn and my cock twitch in equal measure. I was shy, introverted, nothing like him. Could she resist?

The meeting dragged on, but my mind raced. By the time it wrapped, Chitra had slipped out to wait in the lobby. Ash clapped me on the shoulder as we filed out, his hand heavy and lingering. 'Hari, your wife's a vision. Lucky man.' His voice was low, laced with that confident Kerala accent, and I mumbled a thanks, my pulse quickening. That evening, after Chitra and I returned to our modest apartment in Indiranagar, the idea festered. We ate her biryani in comfortable silence, her foot brushing mine under the table—a small intimacy that now felt charged. As she cleared the plates, humming softly, I couldn't shake Ash's look. In bed that night, as she curled against me, her soft tits pressing into my side, I lay awake, imagining his hands on her instead. The jealousy burned, but so did the desire to test it, to push the boundaries of our passion.

The next day at work, I found myself in Ash's office during a break. He leaned back in his leather chair, feet up on the desk, sipping black coffee. 'What's eating you, Hari? You look like you've seen a ghost.' I hesitated, my throat dry, but the words tumbled out before I could stop them. 'Sir, about yesterday... Chitra. I saw you looking at her.' He raised an eyebrow, that smirk playing on his lips again. 'And? She's stunning. Can't blame a man for appreciating.' My face burned, but I pressed on, voice barely above a whisper. 'What if... what if I challenged you? To seduce her. Prove if she's as loyal as I think.' The room went still. Ash's eyes narrowed, then lit with amusement. He set his mug down slowly. 'You're serious? Your own wife?' I nodded, heart hammering, a mix of fear and excitement twisting inside me. 'Make it a game. But she can't know.'

Ash chuckled, deep and rumbling, leaning forward. 'Alright, Hari. Challenge accepted. But don't cry when I win.' His confidence was intoxicating, dominant, and as he outlined the first subtle steps—casual compliments, lingering glances—I felt a rush of arousal despite the knot in my gut. That afternoon, he 'happened' to bump into Chitra when she picked me up from work. She was in a cream silk saree today, the blouse low-cut enough to hint at the creamy swell of her cleavage. Ash approached with his easy stride, extending a hand. 'Mrs. Hari, pleasure to meet you properly. Your husband speaks so highly of you.' Chitra smiled politely, her cheeks flushing as she shook his hand. 'Thank you, Mr. Menon. He's lucky to have such a supportive boss.' Ash's eyes dipped briefly to the way the saree dbangd over her ass, then back up. 'Call me Ash. And the pleasure's mine— that saree suits you beautifully. Brings out your... glow.' She laughed softly, shy but intrigued, tucking a strand of wavy hair behind her ear. 'Oh, it's just an old one.' But I saw the spark in her eyes, the way she stood a bit taller.

In the car ride home, Chitra chattered about the encounter. 'Your boss seems nice. Very... charismatic.' I gripped the wheel tighter, a pang of jealousy hitting me as I pictured his gaze on her curves. That night, as we undressed, her saree pooling at her feet to reveal the lacy bra cradling her full tits, I pulled her close. Our lovemaking was urgent, my hands roaming her soft body, but my mind wandered to Ash—to how he'd touch her, dominate her. She moaned under me, loyal and responsive, but I wondered how long that would last.

The next day, in the office break room, Ash cornered me. 'She's polite, but I see the curiosity. That body of hers—those tits straining against that blouse. We'll start slow: invite her to the office party next week. Get her comfortable.' His words were blunt, painting vivid pictures that made my cock harden even as shame flooded me. 'You really think you can?' I asked, voice shaky. He grinned, clapping my shoulder again, harder this time. 'Watch me, Hari. This is just the beginning.' The tension coiled tighter in my chest—jealousy, desire, the thrill of the forbidden game we'd started. Chitra remained oblivious, but I could feel the shift, the slow unraveling of our safe world.

[Shakespeare]

Part 2

The days blurred into a haze of anticipation after that conversation with Ash. At work, every glance he shot my way carried a weight, a silent reminder of our secret pact. I buried myself in spreadsheets, but my mind kept drifting to Chitra—to the way her silk sarees whispered against her skin, to the curve of her ass as she bent to serve dinner. The jealousy gnawed at me, but so did the heat pooling in my groin whenever I imagined Ash's strong hands on her. Our nights together felt charged now; last evening, as I thrust into her from behind, her moans filling our bedroom, I pictured him watching, directing. She came hard, her pussy clenching around me, loyal as ever, but the fantasy left me spent and ashamed.

That Friday evening, I came home earlier than usual, the office party looming in my mind. The annual event was next Saturday—a lavish affair at a upscale hotel in Koramangala, with live music, cocktails, and the bank's elite mingling. Ash had made it clear: Chitra's presence was key to the next phase. I found her in the kitchen, chopping vegetables for our simple dal-rice dinner. She wore a simple cotton salwar kameez at home, but even that couldn't hide her full breasts straining against the fabric or the sway of her hips. Her long wavy hair was tied back, a few strands escaping to frame her fair face.

"Chitra," I said, setting my bag down and approaching her from behind, my hands sliding around her waist. She leaned into me, her body soft and warm. "There's an office party next week. I'd love for you to come with me."

She turned slightly, her knife pausing mid-chop. "A party? Hari, you know I'm not big on those things. All that dressing up and small talk... and with your colleagues?" Her voice was hesitant, traditional reservations kicking in. She wiped her hands on her apron, turning to face me fully. Her eyes, dark and expressive, searched mine. "Besides, it's just work people. I wouldn't know anyone."

I swallowed, my pulse quickening. This was it—the first real push. "Ash—Mr. Menon—insisted. He said it would be great for me, networking and all. He specifically asked if you'd be there." I kept my tone casual, but inside, my heart raced. Mentioning his name felt like handing her over, piece by piece.

Chitra's brows furrowed, but then a flicker of intrigue crossed her face. "Your boss? Why would he care if I came?" She bit her lower lip, that shy smile tugging at the corners. I could see the curiosity sparking, the same one I'd glimpsed when he complimented her saree.

"He just... appreciated meeting you. Said you're welcome anytime." My voice cracked slightly, and I pulled her closer, feeling the heat of her body against mine. Her tits pressed into my chest, soft and inviting, stirring my cock despite the tension.

She hesitated, glancing away, but the mention of Ash seemed to tip the scale. "Well, if he insists... I suppose I could go. For you." Her cheeks flushed, and she pecked my cheek before turning back to the vegetables. "What should I wear? Something nice, I guess."

Relief and a twisted thrill washed over me. "Your silk sarees. The ones that make you look stunning." She laughed softly, oblivious to the storm brewing in my mind. That night, as we lay in bed, her head on my shoulder, I stroked her hair, imagining Ash's eyes on her at the party. Sleep came fitfully, my dreams a tangle of her moans under another man.

The next morning, as Chitra busied herself with chores, my phone buzzed. A text from Ash:

Ash: So, did you invite her? What's the verdict?

My fingers trembled as I replied: Yes. She was reluctant at first, but when I mentioned you insisted, she agreed. She's intrigued.

His response came quick: Good boy. Tell me more. What did she say about me?

The 'good boy' hit me like a jolt, a subtle command that made my stomach flip. I glanced at Chitra in the living room, folding laundry in her casual kurti, her ass rounding out as she bent over.

Me: She asked why you cared if she came. Blushed a bit. Said you're charismatic.

Ash: Charismatic, huh? She's right. Send me a pic of her right now. Something to tide me over.

I froze, my cock twitching at the directness. Obediently, I snuck a photo—Chitra reaching up to a shelf, her kurti riding up to show the curve of her hip. I hit send before doubt could stop me.

Ash: Fuck, that's a nice ass. Soft, plump. Bet it jiggles when you fuck her. Does she moan loud?

Heat flooded my face, a mix of humiliation and arousal. His tone was shifting, probing deeper, demanding.

Me: Yes, she moans loud. Especially when I take her from behind.
I typed back, my free hand adjusting my growing erection.

The texts continued through the afternoon, as Chitra napped.

Ash: What's her favorite position?

Me: She loves doggy.

Ash: Does she swallow?

Me: Nope. Never. She'll never do it. But she lets me cum on her tits.

Ash: Tell me about her tits—how big? 36B, full and perky, nipples dark and sensitive.
I sent another photo—this one from our album, Chitra in a green silk saree, the blouse hugging her cleavage—I felt myself sinking, submissive under his invisible control.

Ash: Good. You're being honest. That's what I like. Next, get her trying on sarees for the party. Send pics of those. Make her pose if you can.

Me: Ok, Ash.

By evening, as Chitra modeled outfits in our bedroom, I snapped photos at his behest. A blue silk saree dbangd low on her hips, exposing her navel; a red one that made her tits look even fuller. She twirled, laughing at my sudden interest. "You like this one?" she asked, her voice teasing.

"You look incredible," I murmured, sending the shots to Ash immediately. His replies grew bolder...

Ash: Bend her over in that red one. Imagine my cock sliding between those ass cheeks.

The night stretched on, texts pinging even as Chitra slept beside me.

Ash: She's loyal now, but not for long. You're doing well, Hari. Keep feeding me details.

His domination was subtle, wrapping around me like a vice—praise mixed with commands. I lay there, phone glowing, my hand slipping under the sheets to stroke myself, the thrill of submission deepening. The party was a week away, and already, the game felt irreversible.

[eagerseeker]

great start, perhaps delete the other thread to avoid confusion.

[Shakespeare]

Part 3

The week dragged on, each day a cocktail of dread and excitement. At the office, Ash's presence loomed larger; he'd catch my eye during meetings, a knowing smirk playing on his lips, as if he could see right through to the secrets I was feeding him. I'd nod back, my cheeks burning, the weight of our pact pressing on me. Home was no escape—Chitra moved through our routines with her usual grace, but now every sway of her hips in those silk sarees sent my mind reeling to Ash's texts. The obsession grew; I'd jerk off in the bathroom, imagining her under him, her loyalty cracking like thin ice.

That Monday night, after dinner, Chitra slipped into a cream silk saree to try it on for the party. The fabric clung to her curves, the blouse low-cut enough to tease the swell of her full tits. She stood before the mirror, adjusting the pallu, oblivious to my phone in hand.

Chitra: Do you think this is too much?

A shy smile, her long wavy hair cascading down her back.

Me: Not at all. You look perfect

My voice was thick. Heart pounding, I snapped a few photos—her posing with a hand on her hip, the saree dbangd low to show her soft navel, then one from behind as she bent slightly, the material outlining her plump ass. I sent them to Ash immediately, my thumb hovering before hitting send.

Me: More for you. She's trying outfits. What do you think?

His reply buzzed almost instantly: Damn, Hari. That ass in silk... I want to grab it, pull her against me. Make her bend over right there. Good job getting these. Tease her into something sexier tomorrow. Pose her like she's waiting for me.

The command stirred something deep, a submissive pull that made my cock harden.

Me: She's hesitant about revealing stuff. But I'll try.

I glanced at Chitra as she changed out of the saree, her bra hugging those 36 B tits I'd described to him.

Ash: No excuses. You're my little helper now. Tell her it's for the party, make it fun. Or do I need to step in?

The 'little helper' stung, but it fueled the heat in my veins. I stroked myself later that night, Chitra asleep beside me, picturing his tall, muscular frame dominating her.

By Wednesday, Ash's texts had escalated.

Ash: Send me one of her tits close up. Unbutton that blouse a bit.

I waited until she was in the shower, sneaking into our bedroom to grab a photo from memory—her topless from months ago, nipples dark and erect.

Me: Can't get new ones yet. This is old, but she's the same.

Ash: Risk it, Hari. For me. Imagine my mouth on those nipples, sucking while you watch. She's a cow that needs to be milked by this bull.

His words painted vivid pictures, jealousy twisting with arousal. I came hard reading that, guilt flooding me after.

Thursday evening, his next command came:

Ash: Take her shopping tomorrow. Tell her it's to find the perfect outfit for the party. I want pics of her trying on slutty stuff—short dresses, tight blouses that show cleavage. Frame it like it's my idea indirectly.

I swallowed hard, the manipulation clear. He was pulling strings, making me his puppet.

Me: Okay. I'll say it's to impress the boss.

Ash: Smart boy. Do it right, and maybe I'll let you listen when I finally fuck her.

The promise—or threat—sent shivers down my spine. Our texts flowed hot and heavy that night:

Ash: Describe her pussy to me. Wet and tight?

Me: Yes, shaved smooth, gets so wet when I eat her out.

Ash: Bet she'd cream on my thick cock. You're getting her ready for me, aren't you?

Each exchange deepened my descent, obedience blending with the thrill of betrayal.

Friday afternoon, I broached it with Chitra over tea.

Me: Hey, love, why don't we go shopping tomorrow? For the party outfit.

She raised an eyebrow, stirring her chai.

Chitra: Shopping? With you? That's new.

Her tone was playful, but she agreed, curiosity lighting her eyes.

Chitra: Alright, if it'll make you happy.

Saturday morning, we hit a boutique in Brigade Road, the air thick with perfume and silk. Chitra browsed sarees at first, conservative choices, but I steered her toward edgier options—a black silk saree with a sheer blouse, a fitted red lehenga that hugged her ass. In the trial room, she emerged in the black one, the fabric shimmering, her tits straining against the low neckline, navel exposed.

Chitra: This feels... bold.

She was blushing, but she twirled for me.

Me: It's stunning. Ash would approve,' I slipped, then covered. 'I mean, for the party crowd.'

My phone was out, snapping pics discreetly—her smiling coyly, then one bending to adjust her heel, ass curving invitingly. I texted Ash from the waiting area:

Me: She's trying the black saree. Looks like sin. Pic attached.

Ash: Fuck yes. That cleavage... tell her to try the red one next, something tighter. Describe how her ass moves.

Me: Try the red lehenga—it's modern, sexy.

She hesitated but complied, emerging in the tight outfit, the skirt flaring over her hips, blouse dipping low. Her tits bounced slightly as she walked, and I captured it all—close-ups of her curves, her fair skin glowing.

Me: Red one now. Tits spilling out, ass perfect for grabbing.

Ash: Good work. Make her buy it. Imagine me peeling it off her at the party.

His responses kept coming, graphic and demanding.

Ash: Does she get wet trying these on? Touch her, see.

I didn't, but the thought made me ache.

Me: Not yet, but she's flushed. Excited maybe.

We bought the red lehenga, Chitra giggling about how 'adventurous' I was being. That night, texts with Ash turned feverish.

Ash: You're turning her into my hotwife, Hari. Soon she'll beg for my cock.

Me: I know. It's killing me, but... hot.

Ash: Admit it—you want to see me stretch her pussy.

Me: Yes. God, yes. The admission felt like surrender, my submission solidifying.

------

Party night arrived too soon. Chitra transformed in our bedroom, slipping into the red lehenga. The blouse cupped her full tits, a hint of cleavage teasing, the skirt swirling around her plump ass and thighs. Her long hair loose, makeup subtle but enhancing her fair glow. 'Ready?' she asked, nerves mixing with excitement.

'You look incredible,' I said, kissing her forehead, my heart racing. As we drove to the Koramangala hotel, the city's lights blurred, tension coiling in my gut.

Ash's last text: Bring her to me. Watch how I claim what's mine.

The ballroom buzzed—chandeliers sparkling, laughter and clinking glasses. Colleagues mingled in suits and gowns. Chitra clung to my arm, shy at first, but her eyes scanned the room. Then she spotted him—Ash, tall and commanding in a crisp sherwani, his muscular build evident, dark eyes locking on her across the crowd.

His gaze was intense, hungry, tracing her curves like a predator. Chitra stiffened beside me, her hand tightening on my arm. I saw the realization dawn— the lingering looks, the insistence on her coming, the subtle attention. Color rose in her cheeks, but she hid it, forcing a smile.

Chitra: Your boss looks... sharp...
...she murmured, voice steady, though her eyes darted away.

I nodded, pretending ignorance.

Me: Yeah, he's the center of attention.

Inside, I knew: she sensed his desire now, the pull toward this alpha man. Ash smirked from afar, nodding at me—a silent promise. The air thickened, charged with unspoken tension between us three, the game inching closer to its edge.

[hornyjaat69]

Exciting let's see how things unfold in further updates

[Shakespeare]

Part 4

The party swirled around us, but Chitra's focus kept drifting back to Ash. I caught her glancing his way more than once, her eyes lingering on his broad shoulders, the way his sherwani hugged his muscular chest. He stood across the room, chatting with a group of executives, but his gaze flicked to her every few seconds—intense, appreciative, stripping away layers with just a look. She shifted beside me, her hand warm on my arm, but I could feel the tension in her body, the subtle flush creeping up her neck. She knew he was admiring her, the red lehenga clinging to her curves, her tits rising with each breath in that tight blouse. It stirred something in her; her lips parted slightly, but she said nothing, staying composed as always.

She wasn't happy with just the looks, though. I saw it in the way her foot tapped lightly, how she scanned the crowd, almost expectant. The air between us three hummed with unspoken want, and I couldn't take it anymore. Jealousy twisted in my gut, mixing with that dark thrill, pushing me to act.

Me: I'm going to grab us some drinks. Stay here, okay? Mingle a bit.

She nodded, a small smile hiding her nerves, her long hair swaying as she turned slightly.

I wove through the crowd toward the bar, but my path curved subtly toward Ash. As I passed him, I met his eyes, nodding almost imperceptibly—a signal, clear as day. *Go to her. Now.* His smirk deepened, those dark eyes gleaming with understanding. He excused himself from his group and started across the room, his tall frame cutting through the guests like he owned the place. My heart pounded as I ordered the drinks, watching from the corner of my eye.

Ash approached her slowly, his presence commanding even from a distance. Chitra straightened, her cheeks already pinkening as he stopped in front of her. Up close, he towered over her slight plumpness, his Kerala accent rolling low and smooth when he spoke.

Ash: Chitra, you look breathtaking tonight. That red lehenga... it suits you perfectly. Hari's a lucky man.

His voice was deep, laced with authority, like he was stating a fact she couldn't deny. He held her gaze, his eyes dipping briefly to the swell of her tits before returning to her face.

Her breath caught—I saw it from afar, the way her chest rose sharply. Color flooded her fair skin, flushing her cheeks a deep rose, but she held his stare, composed on the surface. Inside, though, ecstasy lit her eyes; she knew he fancied her, the praise wrapping around her like a caress.

Chitra: Thank you, Mr. Menon. That's kind of you to say.
She replied softly, her voice steady but with a hint of warmth, her fingers twisting the edge of her pallu.
The air between them crackled, his desire palpable, but he didn't push further—just a lingering smile, a nod, before excusing himself to greet others.

No more advances came that night. Ash kept his distance after that, mingling but always aware of her, his glances like touches across the room. Chitra stayed by my side when I returned with the drinks, her hand slipping into mine, but the tension simmered under her skin. She sipped her wine, laughing at my small talk, but her mind was elsewhere—on him, on the way his words had made her body hum. We danced once, her curves pressing against me, her ass soft against my hips, but even then, I felt the distance, the pull toward the alpha who'd praised her so directly.

As the party wound down, we said our goodbyes. Ash caught my eye one last time, his nod a promise of more to come.

----------------

Chitra leaned on me in the car, the city's neon lights streaking past, her lehenga rustling with each shift.

Chitra: It was a nice evening...

but her voice held a new edge, curious and alive. I gripped the wheel tighter, arousal and insecurity warring inside me.

Back home, we kicked off our shoes in the dim living room, the silk of her outfit whispering as she unwound. She looked radiant still, her tits straining against the blouse as she stretched. I couldn't hold it in.

Me: So, who impressed you the most tonight? Anyone stand out?
My tone was casual, but my pulse raced, dreading and craving her answer.

Chitra paused, slipping out of the lehenga's skirt, standing in her petticoat and blouse. She glanced away, a shy smile tugging her lips, not intrigued—just honest, traditional as ever. 'I suppose... Ash. He was charming.' Her words were soft, without eagerness, like admitting a simple truth. She didn't elaborate, heading to the bedroom to change, leaving me staring after her, cock twitching at the admission.

My phone buzzed as we settled into bed, Chitra curling against me in her nightie, her soft body warm. It was Ash.

Ash: Your wife couldn't keep her eyes off me. Flushed like a collegegirl when I complimented her. Bet her pussy got wet thinking about it. You're pathetic, Hari—pushing her toward a real man while you stand there like a cuck.

The words hit hard, stirring shame and heat. I glanced at Chitra, asleep now, her breathing even. My jealousy surged.

The next morning, over breakfast, I tested it. 'Ash can be such a sleaze sometimes. Did you see how he eyes women at these things? Thinks he can have anyone.' I kept my voice light, but inside, I hoped she'd pull away.

Chitra buttered her toast, her wavy hair tousled from sleep, tits shifting under her cotton blouse. She raised an eyebrow, a knowing look in her eyes.

Chitra: Are you jealous? He was just polite.
She didn't believe me, her tone teasing, suspecting my insecurity. It stung—her defense of him, however mild, deepened the crack in my control. She leaned over, kissing my cheek.

Chitra: Don't worry. You're my husband.
But as she said it, her mind wandered, I could tell, back to his commanding voice, his praise.

That afternoon, Ash texted again...
Ash: Tell me more about her reaction. Did she mention me?

I did, obediently.

Me: She said you were charming. But I badmouthed you, tried to make you the bad guy.

Ash: Fool. She's already hooked. Keep sending pics—her in that nightie, tits out.

The domination crept in, pulling me deeper, my submission growing as Chitra hummed in the kitchen, oblivious to the web tightening around us.

[Deepika2021]

Nearing submission housewife to ash's toy.

[eagerseeker]

love it

[Shakespeare]

love it

Glad you like it. Thanks for your comment.

[Shakespeare]

I'm looking for someone who can create images for this story. I have the vision I just need someone who can bring those visuals the way I want it. If you are the one, please ping me. Thanks in advance.

[Shakespeare]

Part 5

The weekend arrived with a lazy warmth, the kind that made Bangalore feel alive with possibility. Chitra had been talking about shopping all week, needing a new blouse for an upcoming family function. Her eyes lit up when she mentioned it over breakfast, her cotton nightie hugging her curves as she poured my coffee.

Chitra: I think I'll head to the mall today, Hari. Pick up something nice.
Her voice was casual, but there was a spark in her, a subtle playfulness that hadn't been there before the party. I nodded, my mind already racing to Ash.

As she got ready, slipping into a simple silk saree that dbangd elegantly over her plump ass and full tits, I felt that familiar twist of jealousy and excitement. The fabric shimmered against her fair skin, her long wavy hair cascading down her back. She looked every bit the traditional wife, but I knew the curiosity simmering beneath. While she was in the bathroom, I pulled out my phone and texted Ash...

Me:Chitra's going shopping at Forum Mall this afternoon. Thought you'd want to know.
My fingers hesitated, but I hit send, the submission pulling at me like a current.

His reply came quick.
Ash: Good boy. Send updates. Pictures. Every detail.

The command stung, but my cock stirred, the domination sinking deeper. I pocketed the phone and kissed Chitra goodbye as she left, her perfume lingering—a soft floral that made me ache. Around noon, my phone buzzed with a photo from Chitra: her in a trial room mirror, holding up a blue blouse against her chest, the saree pallu slipping just enough to tease the swell of her tits.

Chitra: What do you think?
I forwarded it straight to Ash, adding:She's trying on clothes. Looks stunning.

Ash's response was immediate: Fuck, those tits. Tell her she looks hot. Make her pose more.

I swallowed hard, texting Chitra back...
Me: You look beautiful. Maybe try it on and send a pic?
She replied with another photo, this one with the blouse half-buttoned, her cleavage on display, a shy smile on her lips.

Chitra: Like this?
I forwarded it, my heart pounding, arousal mixing with the shame of obeying him.
Me: She's getting bolder. Posing for me.

The updates kept coming—Chitra sending snaps of sarees she dbangd, one where the fabric clung low on her hips, accentuating her ass; another of her in a modern kurti that hugged her curves tighter than usual. Each one I sent to Ash, his replies growing more insistent.

Ash: Zoom in on that ass. She's dressing sexier because of me, isn't she? Your conservative little wife is cracking.

I shifted in my chair, the office air thick with my secret tension, my dick half-hard under the desk. Jealousy burned, but so did the thrill of handing her over, piece by piece.

By late afternoon, the photos stopped. Chitra texted: Met a friend, grabbing coffee. Home soon.
A friend? My stomach knotted, but I pushed it down.

Then Ash's message lit up my screen: Guess who I just 'accidentally' ran into at the mall? Your wife. She's even hotter up close in that saree.

My breath caught, pulse racing. He was there? With her? I stared at the words, the cuckold fantasy crashing into reality.

Me: What happened?
I typed back, fingers trembling. His response unfolded like a taunt, detailing every moment, pulling me into the scene I hadn't witnessed.

Ash: I spotted her in the clothing section, Hari - your Chitra, browsing those silk sarees, her ass swaying as she moved. I walked up, all casual: 'Chitra? What a coincidence! Fancy meeting you here.'

She startled, those fair cheeks flushing pink, but she smiled, polite as ever. 'Mr. Menon! Yes, small world.' We chatted about the party, light stuff, then I suggested coffee to catch up. She hesitated—loyal wife and all—but agreed, curiosity winning out.

At the café, she sat across from me, her tits rising with each nervous breath, the saree hugging her plump figure. I opened up, Hari. Told her my story—the orphan bit. How my parents died when I was twelve, car crash in Kerala. Left me alone, scbanging by with odd jobs, studying nights to build this life. Self-made, no silver spoon. No wife because I haven't found someone who sees the heart, not the money or the looks. Just wants the man underneath.'

I could picture it: Chitra's eyes softening, her traditional reserve cracking as she listened. Ash's voice low, commanding yet vulnerable, drawing her in.

Ash: She felt sorry for me.
Sympathy in those eyes, seeing past the boss, the alpha. Leaned forward, her cleavage spilling a bit, hanging on every word. I praised her then—told her she's stunning, that traditional beauty with a fire underneath. Suggested she try more modern stuff, revealing cuts that show off those curves.
Ash: You'd turn heads, Chitra. Hari's lucky, but the world should see you shine.

She blushed deep, but didn't pull away. We exchanged numbers—'In case you need style advice,' I said.

She's hooked now, feeling my longing. Bet her pussy tingled, thinking of a man who needs her heart.

The words hit like punches, each one stoking the fire in my gut. Chitra with him, alone, opening up emotionally while I sat here, obediently reading his conquest. My cock throbbed painfully, the domination complete as I imagined her sympathy turning to something deeper—a hotwife stirring, loyal but tempted.

Me: Did she say anything about me? I asked, desperate.

Ash: Laughed it off when I mentioned you. 'Hari's sweet,' she said, but her eyes said more. She's mine to mold now. Send more pics later—her trying on what I suggested.

I set the phone down, head spinning, the emotional pull twisting with raw desire. Chitra arrived home soon after, arms full of bags, her face glowing.

Chitra: 'Bought a few things,' she said, kissing my cheek, but she didn't mention coffee or Ash. Her secret smile hid it all, her heart shifting in ways I could only guess.

That night, as she modeled a new, slightly tighter blouse—tits straining the fabric, ass fuller in the matching skirt—I felt the distance grow, the seduction weaving tighter without a word from her.

[Anju angel]

Intresting

[Shakespeare]

Intresting

Thanks!

[Deepika2021]

Develop sympathy is the tool to near her heart...
Great narration....

[eagerseeker]

very high potential storyline.

[behka]

nice going, make Chitra's seduction and submission slow and gradual

[eagerseeker]

damn still no updates.

[Shakespeare]

Part 6

The days blurred after that shopping trip, each one pulling Chitra further into this unspoken shift. She started experimenting with her wardrobe, ditching the traditional sarees for western outfits that clung to her body like a second skin. It began subtly—a fitted kurti one morning, the fabric stretching over her full tits, nipples faintly outlined when the light hit just right. But by mid-week, she was bolder: tight jeans that hugged her plump ass, the denim riding up between her cheeks as she walked, paired with a low-cut top that dipped into her cleavage, showing the soft swell of her breasts with every breath. 'Do you like this, Hari?' she'd ask, twirling in front of the mirror, her long wavy hair swaying, fair skin glowing under the bedroom light. I'd nod, throat dry, my cock twitching at the sight, but inside, jealousy gnawed—knowing Ash's words at the mall had planted this seed, urging her to reveal more.

She didn't mention him, not once, but I saw it in her eyes: a playful glint, testing boundaries she'd never crossed before. That evening, as we sat on the couch, her legs tucked under her in those jeans, she pulled out her phone.

Chitra: I'm posting a status
She said casually angling the camera for a selfie. The shot caught her from the side, top pulled low enough to tease the curve of her tit, ass perked against the cushion. She hit send on WhatsApp, then set the phone down, but her gaze kept flicking back, subtle at first, then more insistent. I pretended not to notice, but my heart raced—Ash hadn't texted her since the coffee, no direct line, just this digital game she was playing to draw him out.

Two hours dragged by, the TV droning in the background as Chitra shifted restlessly, checking her viewed statuses every few minutes. Her fingers tapped the screen, lips pressed together in quiet anticipation. Finally, her face lit up, a soft smile breaking through.

'Someone saw it,' she murmured, more to herself than me, but I caught the pleasure in her voice, the way her cheeks flushed. Ash. It had to be.

She didn't say his name, but the way she bit her lip told me everything—relief mixed with excitement, her body relaxing into the couch as if a weight had lifted. That night in bed, as she pressed against me, her hand brushing my thigh, I felt her warmth, the subtle heat between her legs, but her mind seemed elsewhere, chasing that validation.

The next morning, Ash's reaction came—not a text to her, but a heart emoji on the status view, simple and loaded. I saw it when I checked my phone later, forwarded discreetly by him with a message to me:

Ash: Your wife's testing me. Good. She's craving attention.

My stomach twisted, arousal flooding me as I pictured her seeing it, heart pounding, pussy tingling at the confirmation. She knew now—he was watching, desiring her curves on display.

At the office, I buried myself in work, but Ash's presence loomed, his broad shoulders filling the doorway as he passed my desk, a smirk playing on his lips. No words, just that knowing look, dominating the space between us without effort.

Chitra surprised me at lunch, showing up at the bank with a tiffin carrier, her outfit turning heads in the lobby—a body-hugging red dress that skimmed her hips, the neckline plunging to show the inner curves of her tits, ass swaying with each step in heels she'd never worn before.

Chitra: I made extra biryani
Her eyes bright, handing it over with a shy smile. But I saw the intent: she lingered, glancing toward Ash's office door, trying to catch his eye through the glass partition. Her fair skin flushed under the fluorescent lights, wavy hair tied back to expose her neck, vulnerable and inviting.

Chitra: Share it with Mr. Menon if you want. See if he likes it.

My cock stirred at the request, the hotwife in her emerging—loyal still, but reaching out, seducing without words.

I nodded, pulse quickening, and took the tiffin to the break room. Ash was there, alone, his muscular frame leaning against the counter. I offered him a portion, mumbling about Chitra's cooking. He took it, eyes darkening as he ate, then leaned in close.

Ash: Tell her I loved it. Said it was the best she's made yet—spicy, just like her.
His voice was low, commanding, sending a shiver through me. I relayed the message later, watching her face light up over dinner, though she hid it behind a casual 'Oh, good.' But inside, I knew: the emotional hook was setting deeper, her sympathy from the mall twisting into longing, her body responding to his praise.

That night, as we lay in bed, her in a thin nightie that did little to hide her hardening nipples, I couldn't hold it back. The words tumbled out, laced with the jealousy eating at me.

Me: Chitra, don't bring food to the office anymore. Or do favors for Ash. He's not the good person he pretends to be—manipulative, always taking what he wants.

My voice cracked, the cuckold fantasy clashing with real fear, my hand on her waist feeling possessive yet weak.

She stiffened beside me, her breath catching, upset flickering in her eyes.
Chitra: Why would you say that, Hari? He's been kind.
But she didn't argue, just turned away, her plump ass brushing my thigh in the dark, silent but seething. The air thickened with unspoken tension, her loyalty to me fraying at the edges.

As she drifted off, I stared at the ceiling, cock half-hard from the day's torments, realizing the truth: she longed for him now, the alpha pull undeniable. The game had officially begun, my obsession dragging us all into the fire, step by teasing step.

[Shakespeare]

Part 7

The next day dragged on without incident, at least on the surface. I left for the office early, stealing glances at Chitra as she got ready in our bedroom. She was at the mirror, applying more makeup than usual - eyeliner that made her dark eyes pop, a touch of red lipstick that plumped her full lips, blush dusting her fair cheeks to give them a perpetual flush. It wasn't overdone, but it transformed her, stripping away the last veils of her conservative shell.

Her long wavy hair fell loose over her shoulders, framing the changes she'd made to her neck: the sacred mangalsutra was gone, replaced by delicate western-style chains, multiple thin silver strands that dbangd across her collarbone, drawing the eye to the soft swell of her tits beneath a fitted blouse. They caught the light as she moved, a subtle invitation, her slightly plump body shifting with newfound confidence.

Me: You look beautiful
My cock stirring at the sight, but she just smiled vaguely, lost in thought, her fingers lingering on the chains.

She didn't mention Ash, but I could see the contemplation in her eyes as she sipped her coffee - debating whether to reach out, to text him after my warning the night before. The air between us felt charged, her loyalty to me hanging by a thread, pulled taut by whatever vulnerability he'd shown her at the mall. I wanted to ask, to demand she stop, but the cuckold ache in me held my tongue, arousal mixing with the fear as I kissed her goodbye and headed out.

Work was a blur until the afternoon, when the General Manager stormed into the branch like a thundercloud. Ash had fucked up a client report—nothing major, a small discrepancy in numbers—but the GM tore into him right there in the conference room, voice booming through the glass walls. Ash stood tall as ever, his muscular frame rigid, but I saw the hit land: his broad shoulders slumped slightly, handsome face tightening with subdued defeat. The alpha boss, reduced to a scolded subordinate, his Kerala pride dented. He spent the rest of the day quiet, holed up in his office, avoiding eye contact, the usual dominating smirk replaced by a shadow of sadness that made him seem almost human. My heart raced with twisted glee—ecstatic at this crack in his armor, the manipulative bastard brought low. It fueled my obsession, the fantasy of him vulnerable, begging for comfort from the one woman I loved.

I burst through the door that evening, unable to contain the buzz. Chitra was in the kitchen, stirring dal in a simple salwar kameez that hugged her curves, the thin chains glinting against her skin.

Me: You won't believe what happened today
I was grinning as I pulled her into a hug, my hands on her waist feeling the soft give of her body. She turned, eyes curious, wiping her hands on a towel.

Chitra:What is it, Hari?
Her voice was light, but I caught the subtle tension, the way her makeup-enhanced lips parted slightly.

Me: The GM ripped into Ash—big time. Some screw-up on a report, and he just... let him have it. Ash looked like a kicked puppy the whole day, sad and quiet.
I watched her closely, my pulse quickening, cock half-hard already from the telling. Her reaction was subtle but there: a flicker in her eyes, brows knitting with concern, her full tits rising with a deeper breath. She bit her lip, the red lipstick smudging faintly, and turned back to the stove, stirring slower.

Chitra: That's awful
Her voice soft, laced with sympathy that twisted like a knife in my gut.
Chitra continued: He seemed so strong before.
No outrage, no dismissal—just that emotional pull, the hotwife seed Ash had planted blooming under her traditional facade. She cared, more than she should, her body language screaming it: shoulders softening, a hand absently touching the chains at her neck as if seeking solace herself.

Dinner was quiet, the tension simmering, her glances at her phone hidden but obvious. I ate mechanically, arousal building from her subtle worry, imagining Ash's strong hands trembling, needing her touch. Bedtime came, and I pretended to drift off quickly, the room dark except for the glow of her screen under the covers. She shifted beside me, her plump ass brushing my leg, warm and inviting, but her focus was elsewhere. The soft taps of her fingers on the phone echoed in the silence, secretive and insistent. Who was it? Him, of course. My heart pounded, jealousy flooding me, but I stayed still, breathing even, until her movements slowed and she set the phone on the nightstand, rolling away with a sigh.

Hours later, when her breaths deepened into sleep, I couldn't resist. My hand trembled as I reached for her phone, unlocking it with the code I still knew—our anniversary date, a remnant of her loyalty. WhatsApp opened to their chat, messages I'd never seen before, each one a gut punch. Ash's words spilled out, raw and longing after the day's humiliation: simple updates at first, then deeper. The one that stopped me cold...

Ash: I wish I could be with you this moment and just lie on your lap crying - that would give me warmth.
Emotional, vulnerable, the dominant alpha cracking open, craving her softness, her body as solace.

Chitra's reply: a sad face emoji, then...
Chitra: Come home tomorrow.

Simple, inviting, her curiosity turning to bold invitation. Inviting him here? To our home? My cock throbbed painfully hard against the sheets, arousal crashing over me like a wave, broken shards of jealousy mixing with the hottest surge I'd ever felt. She wanted him close, to comfort him, her tits and ass offered up in ways I'd only fantasized.

Tears pricked my eyes, but I stroked myself slowly, the pre-cum slick on my fingers, picturing it - Ash's head in her lap, her hands in his hair, the seduction deepening into something real. What's going to happen tomorrow? The question burned, leaving me shattered and aching, the fire we'd lit consuming us all.

[hornyjaat69]

next update would be fun keep going Shakespeare